


(And Then) There Was You

by yourenotfree



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Kind of an open ending, M/M, Milkovich sibling bonding, because I adore Mandy and Mickey's dialogue, fair warning, okay this is kind of sad, they just really really love Ian, with some dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 15:03:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6381085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourenotfree/pseuds/yourenotfree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Mickey would lie awake in the dead of night, a cigarette forgotten between his fingers, and think that he loved Ian Gallagher so fucking much that he had forgotten how to breathe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(And Then) There Was You

**Author's Note:**

> I just really needed to write this. 
> 
> Side note: looking for a beta, let me know if you have any interest.

Mickey had always thought that the best quality he had was his survival instinct. It had helped him out of far too many sticky situations to count. Growing up in the Milkovich home meant learning to be independent and merciless. You looked out for yourself, and never stopped to ask questions.

There was no love lost between the tyrant father, Terry, and his children. Igniting his short temper was a sure-fire way to get yourself a black eye and a broken nose. Mickey, infamous for his quick wit and defiant cheek, got the brunt of the beatings. Teachers at school had long since turned a blind eye when the Milkovich children showed up to class black and blue.

Later Mickey would discover that while he took most of the physical abuse, Mandy received far worse. Her uncanny resemblance to their late mother, who was too fragile and never stood a fighting chance, was her downfall. 

But Mandy was not weak like their addict of a mother. She had perhaps more spirit than even Mickey, and that was a hard-won title. The light in her eyes, though it dimmed considerably after one of Terry's drunken rampages, never went completely out. In fact, after meeting and becoming the best friend of a certain redheaded Gallagher, Mandy became the happiest that Mickey had ever seen her. 

He would never admit it out loud, but Mickey found himself green with envy. Why should she be allowed so much joy in this nightmare of a life, and not Mickey? And who was this twig of a kid to make her so careless and light and free? 

And, okay, maybe that curiosity founded a sort of obsession with Gallagher. One that led Mickey to go back to the Kash 'n Grab day after day. Nothing entertained Mickey more than lighting that blazing fire in his eyes. 

And stealing Kash's gun ended up being the best decision of Mickey's entire life. 

Though at the time, all Mickey could feel was panic. It clawed at his throat and ripped his stomach and kept him awake late into the night. Because he knew, he knew, what Terry was capable of. He knew what would happen if anyone found out. 

Mickey had never been book smart, but he wasn't fucking stupid, and he didn't have a death wish. It should have been easy to stop. It shouldn't have felt like he'd actually die if he never made Gallagher laugh again. 

But he couldn't stop. Not even when he recognized that look in the redhead's eyes. The fond kind of look that meant things had finally gone too fucking far. The look that meant they were both doomed. 

There wasn't a single moment that Mickey realized he was in love with Ian. It didn't hit him full force in the face like a train. It snuck up on him, crept up closer and closer until he couldn't just ignore it anymore. Mickey felt it in the way his chest tightened when Ian smiled. He felt it in the way his mouth went dry when Ian walked into the room. He felt it late at night in their dugout, when he had to stuff his fist into his mouth to stop from screaming out just how deep his feelings ran. 

Sometimes Mickey would lie awake in the dead of night, a cigarette forgotten between his fingers, and think that he loved Ian Gallagher so fucking much that he had forgotten how to breathe. 

It never really hit Mickey that maybe he loved Ian too much. Maybe there was a limit, and he surpassed it. Maybe...maybe Mickey loved Ian more than Ian was capable of loving him. 

The worst part of coming to that conclusion, was knowing that he couldn't even blame Ian. It had already confounded everyone in their lives, the fact that someone like Ian Gallagher was in a relationship with someone from the Milkovich family. It made perfect sense. 

Just like Terry always said. Just like his mother never had to say. You are unlovable. 

Mandy knew exactly what it was to hold your heart out to someone, and watch them shatter it. If Mickey had only been paying attention, he could have saved himself from the same fate. 

It felt like a dream, a dream that he lived a lifetime ago. The tire iron digging into his spine. The way Ian had murmured eyes on me. The first time Mickey kissed Ian. The wedding. Finding Ian after Mickey was sure he'd never lay eyes on the redhead again. Nearly dying for the freedom to be himself. 

It didn't seem real anymore. 

Mickey's entire world had turned to sand and disintegrated all around him so fast, he couldn't even remember what it felt like to not have a care in the world. He hadn't stopped feeling frozen solid since the morning when Ian refused to get out of bed. Like his veins ran with actual ice. 

And still he couldn't leave. Where the fuck would he go? There was Ian. There was only ever Ian. There would be no one else. There was no After Ian. Only a Before. 

The only person who could possibly understand, was Mandy, who loved Ian Gallagher almost as much as her brother. 

One night when Ian had been in bed for nearly two straight weeks, Mickey was sitting in the hallway outside his bedroom, directly beside the doorway. Mandy sunk down next to him. They both were barely sleeping, living in the all-consuming fear that one day they'd wake up and find Ian holding a bloody razor to his skin. 

She offered him her cigarette, and Mickey took three shaky puffs before returning it. Without turning her head to look at her brother, Mandy grappled blindly for his calloused hand, and held on like it was a lifeline. 

"I love him," she whispered in the darkness. 

Mickey's throat went raw. He felt like crying hot, angry tears. For a long time, he didn't answer Mandy, knowing he'd loose it if he tried. 

In his silence, Mandy continued to speak. She sounded much calmer than Mickey felt, probably the result of chain-smoking a pack of cigarettes and the bottle of gin she'd polished off earlier. 

"When I met him, I remember this overwhelming feeling of safety. Like, if I stayed close enough to him, nothing could hurt me. He made me feel...invincible."

She waited to see how Mickey would react. When he still said nothing, she charged on. "No one had ever been as good to me as he has. No one has ever loved me as much as he has. And when I found out," she paused to take a deep breath, "when I found out about you, the first thing I felt, was anger. You took the most important thing in my entire world. You took him, Mick. And he let you." 

"But what really got me," Mandy's voice dropped. Mickey heard the first sign of raw, untapped emotion in her tone, "was that you didn't seem to even want him."

Mickey stared at his hands. His knuckles, painted with his signature tattoos, were split open from yesterday when he'd gotten so frustrated that he'd punched a hole clean through the drywall. They itched to hit something else. Maybe someone else. 

Mandy still wasn't looking at him. She seemed entranced by the faintly glowing tip of her smoke. "I wanted to punch you. I almost did a thousand times when Ian was gone. He left because of you. And you were moping around the house and the Alibi Room like you had a right to miss him. But he didn't just leave you, Mick." 

He audibly hissed at that. "I know."

"Let me finish," Mandy requested softly. She didn't sound angry, despite her words. Just tired. "When you brought him home...well needless to say I stopped wanting to hit you. Because I finally got to watch the two of you together. And I realized something that I hadn't understood before. You love him, Mickey. You do. You've always loved him." 

Mickey felt like he was being suffocated. His lungs were burning from the effort of holding himself together. "Yeah," was his gruff response. He realized, very suddenly, that she had never released her hold on his hand. 

"You would do anything for Ian, wouldn't you?"

Mickey thought back to Yevgeny's christening and thought, I already did. "Anything." 

He couldn't tell for sure in the darkness, but he could almost hear Mandy's smile. "Me too."

It was nice, knowing that he wasn't the only one in so deep. He wasn't the only one that had fallen prey to Ian's charms, to his infectious smile. And when it all inevitably fell to pieces, he wouldn't be alone at rock bottom. And that was something. 

Mickey Milkovich prided himself on his fierce, unstoppable will to survive. 

He survived an abusive childhood courtesy of the man who should have protected him above all. 

He survived the death of his mother when he was too young to realize how much better off he was. 

He survived the moment he realized what he was, and years of internalized homophobia made him want to actually die. 

He survived being raped at gunpoint while the man he loved watched. 

He survived the marriage that he never asked for.

He survived the dark months after Ian had split and showed no sign of ever coming back. 

He survived the birth of the child that only reminded him over and over again of the trauma he'd endured. 

He survived his father's fury when he (finally) came out. 

And he had survived Ian's diagnosis. Was still surviving it. 

Mickey knew that a lot could be said about him. He had problems containing his rage. He had pushed Ian away for nearly three years. He didn't know a fucking thing about being a father. He also didn't know a thing about being a boyfriend. 

But don't you dare say that Mickey Milkovich wasn't a survivor. Don't you dare say that he wasn't brave.


End file.
